A new way to say devotion
by Officer Hanako
Summary: (Excel P.o.V fic. Short.) Excel rambles about how wonderful and perfect her lord is and how much she.... erm... admires him.


Title: A new way to say devotion

Spoilers for: Hopefully nothing

Fic type: P.o.V

Set during: Whenever

From: Excel's P.o.V

Warnings: Random Excel rambles

Dedication: To my oniisama, who is a romantic, scarily enough (Why, big brother, why?!) and likes Ilparazzo x Excel.

* * *

How I love Ilpalazzo-sama! There just isn't enough of him. Not that I'm saying he should be fat, it's just if you had to choose someone to clone on this earth, it should definitely be him. Or rather, why would I want him cloned? There would be more of him, which would be good, but that would mean I'd have to pledge loyalty to all of him and I wouldn't know which one the real one was and what if I accidentally didn't get through all the Ilpalazzo clones in a day and didn't pledge loyalty to the real one?

That would be disastrous! What if Ha-chan knew which the real one was, continued saying 'Hail, Ilpalazzo-sama!' to him, even though Ha-chan probably won't say it so energetically and then Ilpalazzo would like her much, much better than he liked me.

But anyway, I really love Ilpalazzo-sama. I love him more than food and life and money. No! I shouldn't use money as an example, because he doesn't like money and therefore using it as a contrastion is an insultment to his amazingality ! ... Oh Ilpalazzo-sama, Excel is so creative! She even makes up entirely new words just for you! I will do anything for you! Anyone who asks you which cat you killed to get your eyes will die! Anyone who opposes you will die! Any little bitch who tries to fuck you before I get to _will certainly die_! I can't blame anyone for _wanting _him, be it a girl or a guy, but if they touch him they will be dealt with in unpleasant painful ways, probably including knives, very long finger nails, a week-long dead fish and a swift Excel kick to parts unknown!

Yes, but I can see why people would love Ilpalazzo-sama. He's so wonderful and so caring! So beautiful and manly! So delicate and amazingly beautiful! Oh, lovely Ilpalazzo-sama, I want to fuck you until the morning, then continue into the next day! 

It's as if somebody took all the sexy irresistible men in the world and rolled them into one perfect being! Except for Key, but as I'm in the mood for Ilpalazzo-sama at the moment, I'm going to forget about him for now.

...

Well, whatever I was just thinking about previously has now been forgotten. Nothing will get in the way of my thinking about Ilpalazzo-sama! Nothing at all! Nothing, like those great open fields full of nothing but grass! Ilpalazzo-sama is my grass! Not that I would ever trample him. Or smoke him for that matter. I would like to have him in my mouth, but that's as far as his resemblance to _any_ type of grass will go. Not that I would really like to smoke anything! That's something for the ignorant masses to do and I am not part of the ignorant masses. Or rather, would Ilpalazzo-sama be able to fall in love with one of the ignorant masses? Me, if I was one? But there's no point in thinking like that, because I have pledged my loyalty to Ilpalazzo-sama and I will continue being one of his loyal agents.

Oh Ilpalazzo-sama! Is that what I am to you? An agent with benefits? Perfect! A perfect title for me. Well, the benefits part is of course, not referring to my success rate when it comes to missions. There's always strange circumstances preventing completion. I don't understand how counter measures can be set up so quickly against a secret organization... But then, I don't understand a lot of things, so I won't trouble my head over it. All I should be troubling myself with right now is the completion of the current mission.

Hail Ilpalazzo-sama! Your devoted Excel is working hard!

* * *

For anyone who didn't understand my comment about Excel wanting Ilpalazzo in her mouth, Grass is another slang term for Marijuana which can be smoked, so you would therefore have to put it in your mouth.


End file.
